


tender, bartender

by sparkshaped



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: It's Soft, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Mirage, it was unintentionally soft idk what happened, tbh i don;t know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkshaped/pseuds/sparkshaped
Summary: Sometimes, when you're lonely, you'll end up in Paradise.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 15
Kudos: 112





	tender, bartender

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing ive ever posted to ao3 and i kinda hate it but i told myself i woULD POST SMTH so *gestures vaguely*;; 
> 
> it's set after the whole wattson/crypto/caustic drama just btw, like early season 6
> 
> no i didn't proofread this im looking away

Working in a bar, you get used to some pretty strange sights. Mirage had seen his fair share of the strange, here, in the Paradise Lounge — it was one of the best parts of the job, really; but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of _Crypto_ sitting by the bar, shoulders hunched, thumbs twiddling. 

Mirage’s first thought is that he’s lost. Or maybe being held hostage would make more sense. He’s never even _seen_ Crypto outside of the games, never mind in his very own bar. The reason for that, Mirage assumed, was the great amount of disdain the pair held for each other. 

Desperate to get to the conclusion of Crypto’s mysterious appearance, Mirage hop foots to the bar, sliding under the entranceway and putting himself on the business end of some dirty glasses, just for something to do. 

When he turns to face Crypto, the man says nothing. Mirage isn’t sure he even knows he’s there. 

He clears his throat lightly, “Didn’t think you’d be caught dead in this place.” 

Now, Crypto looks at him, the same pissy expression on his face as always. “So, you’re a funny bartender?”

“ _The_ funniest.” Mirage says, grinning devilishly. 

“Makes sense,” Crypto says, “Your entire life is a joke.”

Mirage rolls his eyes and picks up another dirty glass, “Did you really come into my bar just to insult me?”

Crypto seems to seize up slightly at the question, his jaw clenches tightly — though Mirage thinks that’s more to do with the metal plating stuck to him. His eyes soften, ever so slightly, but Mirage notices the slight hitch of his eyebrows… and maybe he’s concerned. A little bit. Just a little bit.

Their back and forth’s were always amusing but Mirage is far too curious to know why Crypto is really here, of all places, when he’s sure he has a hole to be hiding in. 

“I…” Crypto begins, taking a long pause before continuing. So long that Mirage thinks he’s forgotten to continue.

“Nobody will talk to me.” He finally says, his voice meek behind the large collar of his coat.

The realisation that Crypto has feelings hits Mirage like a tonne of bricks. Because, _really_ , this entire time, he’s been going off on the assumption that the hacker guy was an emotionless robot. Nobody was speaking to him because of the Wattson incident and he was _sad_ about it. Mind blowing stuff. No, seriously. 

When Mirage neglects to respond, Crypto continues. “You’re the only one who isn’t treating me differently.” 

“I do insult you constantly, Cryppy.” Mirage has to remind him. 

“Yes. But. It’s the same as always.” 

The pair go quiet for a few moments. A comfortable silence. The bar music hums gently in the background while Mirage tries to detach his pitiful gaze away from Crypto. He’d probably hate that. Honestly, he’s still sort of reeling from Crypto’s confession. He wants to prod him with more questions, but he’d probably hate that, too. Come to think of it, he can’t think of a single thing to do that Crypto wouldn’t hate.

“Do you wanna help me close up?” Mirage asks, a genius idea if he’s ever had one. Crypto doesn’t seem immediately repulsed, so he figures he’s going in the right direction. 

“Sure.” 

Relief washes over Mirage and he hands Crypto the task of wiping down the tables. It’s not going to help, but perhaps, at the very least, he can distract the sad little man from the unfortunate situation for a while. He knew Wattson had a lot of people checking in on her, it never occurred to him that Crypto might need someone checking on him. Not that he made it easy for people to check on him, he never sticks around after the games and nobody knows where he lives. He never opted in for the company carpool’s either, _pfft_. 

Crypto is… lonely? Mirage’s gaze lingers over the man as he scrubs at a table, an unfamiliar, docile expression resting upon his sharp features; he thinks maybe their loneliness is the one thing they have in common. Sure, Mirage is popular, and he has great friends, but tonight, at closing time… his bar has one other person in it, and that’s Crypto.

Once they finish wiping surfaces and stacking chairs, it’s just the two of them, sitting on the two bar stools that Mirage left out for them. He’s poured them both identical drinks — just some soda and a spirit, nothing fancy — and, to his surprise, Crypto takes a sip. Honestly, Mirage expected him to bolt as soon as he had the chance. He was good at that. 

“Are you paying me for my labour?” And just like that, Crypto’s snarky edge made its triumphant return. He smirks at Mirage, his glass held lazily in his hands. 

“Nope. This, Cryppy, is exp- explana-”

“Exploitation.”

“Yeah that—at its finest.” Mirage returns the smirk. But better. Because he’s just better at smirking. _Haha, point to Mirage_. 

They sip their booze and enjoy the lighthearted moment; Crypto knows it isn’t to stay, however. How much friendship could he expect from these people if he wasn’t willing to be honest with them? Mirage doesn’t even know his name. 

A frown quickly returns to Crypto’s face at the somber reminder. 

“Hey, come on, where’d the smile go?” Mirage teases, actually kind of missing the old guy’s pleasant expression. _Yeah, I said it_. 

Crypto sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I have much to smile about these days.”

Mirage has to scoff at that. “I’ll give ya a reason! You’re sitting with a drink in your hand, talking to a _super_ handsome bartender.”

With his eyebrows raised in confusion, Crypto looks to his left, to his right, then he looks behind him before turning to Mirage, his face full of faux bewilderment. “And where is this handsome bartender?” 

Thankfully, they both laugh, Mirage even gives Crypto a playful whack on the arm for good measure. Maybe his hand lingers slightly. And maybe Crypto doesn’t push it away. Their gazes lock and before Mirage can fake a cough and joke his way out of the moment, Crypto’s hand fastens around his forearm and tugs him directly into a fumbling kiss that neither man was prepared for. 

For as bad as Mirage is with words… this is the part he’s actually good at and he finds it all too easy to slip into a rhythm with Crypto — who is, for the record, slightly worse at this than he is. A small victory, one he doesn’t plan on mentioning. He can feel hesitation in Crypto’s lips, they move a little slow, a little uneasy against Mirage’s confident movements. That’s when he realises that, even though Crypto initiated this, he’s gonna be the one buckled up in the driver's seat. He sinks into the realisation that Crypto _wants_ someone to take charge of him, just for a little bit. 

Mirage, feeling ever so slightly surer about himself, slips his tongue passed Crypto’s teeth — feverishly tickled by the small gasp that falls from the other man’s full mouth. He lets his hands wander, but all he can feel is Crypto’s enormous jacket that is seemingly glued to his skin, he groans into their kiss and tugs the jacket off of a pair of slim shoulders, half expecting Crypto to thump him on the side of the head. To his _utter_ delight and surprise, Crypto sags his shoulders and lowers his arms, letting the coat fall to the floor. 

The new territory was neither charted nor ever seen; Mirage wants to look so desperately at the kind of physique Crypto was hiding under that stupid fucking jacket, but he refuses to release Crypto’s tongue from his mouth. Instead, he looks with his hands, running his fingers over a set of forearms, covered by tight, long sleeves — figures, this guy doesn’t give anything away for free. He brings his hands all the way up until they rest, hooked round Crypto’s neck. It’s only then does Crypto find the courage to place his own hands on Mirage’s waist.

When Mirage breaks away for the sake of breathing, he plucks up the courage to ask a burning question that determines where his mouth is heading next. “Hey, hacker boy,” he breathes, still pressing chaste kisses against Crypto’s slack mouth, “I usually head south after this part, but, uh.” He drags a thumb and forefinger along the cool metal of the implants that make up Crypto’s jaw, hoping his question is obvious. 

Looking anywhere that isn’t _at_ Mirage, Crypto wills away the blush that tints his cheeks and nods his head. “Y-yeah, I can still feel.” 

“I gotta say, I’ve never made out with metal before. That’s… definitely a new one for me.” He tilts Crypto’s chin upwards with his thumb and inspects the strange plating. “Never really thought much about these things but, huh, they’re pretty cool.” 

“Do you ever stop talking?” 

Oh. “Oh. Okay.” Mirage chuckles, bringing Crypto’s head back down so they can look at each other, “You talk pretty smart for a guy with bright red cheeks.” 

And just like that, Crypto’s attitude disappears just quickly as it had arrived; his gaze drops to his lap immediately and Mirage savours the victory, tilting his own head downward and peppering short kisses over Crypto’s neck plating. 

It seems to shut him up, save for a few weak mewls escaping him every so often, Mirage has to wonder how sensitive the plates are compared to his skin. He drags his lips up and up to Crypto’s jawline, quite enjoying the cool feeling against his warm lips; when he reaches Crypto’s mouth once again, he kisses him deeply — like, hand on the back of his head deeply, like, _I couldn’t possibly get any closer to you but God knows I’ll try_ kind of deep. 

Mirage pulls away abruptly, but stays close enough to Crypto’s face that their lips almost touch. “You’re pretty fuckin’ good at this, old man.” 

Crypto tries to scoff the compliment off, oh, he _tries_ , but the corners of his mouth upturn too much and he practically… giggles. It was a sound Mirage never thought he’d hear from him. “Cute too. Coulda fooled me.” He says, running his fingers through the choppy layers of hair at the back of Crypto’s head.

“Please stop talking.” Crypto practically pleads. But there’s no malice, not like usual. He presses his forehead to Mirage’s and screws his eyes closed, “ _Please_.” 

Now, usually, Mirage isn’t great at taking hints. But backwards hints that secretly mean _please keep talking to me_ , he gets. Finding a perfect balance between generous and evil, he pushes his mouth flush against Crypto’s ear implants. “I don’t think you want me to stop, though.”

A shudder that could shake the ground beneath them rolls out from Crypto’s lithe shoulders, Mirage grips him tighter and chances a glance at the clothed body of the man in his arms. It was just as expected. Heavenly. Stupid, sexy Crypto. 

There’s more kissing, a particular neediness coming from Crypto’s end and they don’t last very long before Mirage realises if they don’t leave now, he’ll probably bend Crypto over, right here on the bar and he only _just_ cleaned it. By some miracle, they part long enough to leave the Paradise Lounge and stumble up the side-alley stairs to Mirage’s apartment. Though, Mirage has quite a challenge fumbling for his house keys as Crypto sends the taller man’s back colliding with the front door, pressing their chests flush together. His eyes scan over Mirage’s face as he searches for somewhere to devour and he, quietly, relishes in the hungry haze that the other man looks at him with. “Fuck,” is all Crypto says, before his mouth fastens to Mirage’s neck and he kisses noisily, up and down and up to his jawline and across to his earlobe, where he nibbles and draws the sexiest little hitch out of Mirage’s throat. 

“You gotta let me open the door, before I take you right here and right now.” Mirage says, sliding his hands up and under Crypto’s tight black t-shirt. 

“I don’t give a fuck where you take me, Witt.” Crypto whines back, his voice muffled by the slicked skin of Mirage’s neck. 

Gripping the shorter man's hips, Mirage laughs dryly and crashes their groins together, very satisfied by what seems to be going on in Crypto’s jeans. “Yeah, _you_ don’t give a fuck, because you’re needy and you’ve got a head full of horny butterflies.” He waits to see if Crypto has any objections — he does not, “But I’m sure tomorrow’s cool and calm Cryppy would have something to say about it.”

Wordlessly, and rather unwillingly, Crypto relents and pulls himself off of Mirage long enough so that the front door can be unlocked. He swears Mirage is taking his fucking time on purpose. 

_Finally_ the door swings open and the journey from the doorstep to Mirage’s bedroom quickly becomes nothing more than a blurry, distant memory to both men as the lust and desperation gets to their heads. 

The next thing Crypto knows, he’s being shoved backwards onto an unmade bed and, as if by magic, his jeans are already undone; he could barely remember his own name right now, never mind whenever that had happened — and whoever had done it. He looks to Mirage, who’s wrestling his clothes off in the least graceful manner possible, and tries to take in the sight of this beautiful idiot without smiling like a fool. That fails. But luckily Mirage is out of his shirt and jeans and on top of him in a flash, sticking his tongue straight through Crypto’s dopey grin. 

“You could’ve taken your jeans off, y’know,” Mirage breathes into Crypto’s mouth, moving his legs to comfortably straddle the man, “Were you waiting for instructions?” 

Crypto finds time to answer in the spaces between their furious make out session, “I mean I— I don’t do this a lot.” 

“Mmm, what a shock.” Mirage says flatly, grinding his hips down into Crypto’s, “I guess that makes me the boss here.” He pulls away and flashes his smuggest grin, loving the way it accentuates the bitchy little pout that’s nestled into Crypto’s pretty features. “Jeans off.” He pops a quick kiss on the other man’s nose before rolling over and letting Crypto wriggle out of his jeans undisturbed. 

As much as Crypto tries to play this cool, Mirage can feel the underlying shyness behind everything he does. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a massive turn on. Even the way he kicks his jeans off is hesitant. Makes a big change from the asshole with the superiority complex who roams the Apex arenas with his hands in his pockets. 

It’s a hot minute later but Crypto finally drops his jeans to the bedroom floor, feeling incredibly exposed, he gingerly curls his fists into his long sleeves and waits for Mirage to say something — because he’s _definitely_ going to. “Hoo,” Mirage almost sings, staring a hole straight through the tent in Crypto’s boxers, “There’s enough room for me to camp under there.”

The other man scowls and turns away, “Do something about it then,” he mumbles. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just weighing my options here.” Mirage says, eyeing Crypto’s exposed legs. It’s the most skin he’s ever seen from him. Even when they were being treated at the medbay, the fancy little hacker kept his coat on. 

“Your options?” Crypto asks. His voice is quiet… almost gentle? The rough edge was entirely gone. Even his eyes look shiny and welcoming. Mirage catches himself staring for a few seconds,but he doesn’t stop until it’s been quiet for a moment too long.

“Yup.” He says, very simply, leaning over and giving Crypto a sideways kiss that neither of them want to pull away from. Mirage does well to mask his surprise when Crypto’s hand finds the waistband of his boxers and slips his fingers under the elastic, trailing the hot and sensitive skin underneath. He teases the cold metal of his finger pads against Mirage for a few minutes, going down _juuuust_ enough to incite a hip bucking reaction from the other man, then he comes back up. Smirking. Pleased with himself. 

Their makeout session above has turned slow, but in every delicious way possible. Crypto may never admit it out loud but Mirage might be better at kissing than he is at… anything else; he knows just when to pull away so that Crypto’s mouth follows, searching, wanting more. And when Mirage bites down harshly on Crypto’s bottom lip, he knows his teasing below is drawing to a close. 

“Right, gotta lose the boxers.” In one fluid motion, the boxers are tossed and lost to the darkness of the bedroom. Mirage wastes no time in reaching down to squeeze his own dick, for a little bit of relief if anything. His eyes flutter shut at the sweet contact, but he can _feel_ Crypto watching his languid strokes. At this point, he’s merely showing off. 

He feels the weight on the bed shift slightly and opens his eyes to Crypto’s face inches away from the head of his cock — a move he wasn’t expecting. They make eye contact while Mirage continues passively pumping himself. 

“You talk a lot of shit, old man,” Mirage purrs, refusing to break the gaze, “What else can you do with that mouth?” 

The red tinge on Crypto’s cheeks deepens immediately but he doesn’t look away. He inches closer and closer to Mirage and, following a quick lick of his lips, he envelopes the tip of Mirage’s cock entirely in his mouth. It’s enough to make the man suck air in through his teeth, but he still doesn’t break eye contact, Crypto has to work a little harder for that. 

Once over the initial feeling of his mouth being so full, Crypto swirls his tongue around, testing, tasting, slicking up as much skin as he can reach without taking anymore; he wraps a hand around the shaft and pumps at Mirage with ease, matching the languid laps of his tongue, the sordid noises coming from his mouth have Mirage feeling a whole new level of bliss. 

Sucking messily, Crypto hums happily around the dick in his mouth, the vibrations on Mirage’s skin shooting straight to his balls. He lets out his first loud moan, throwing his head back and losing the eye contact. _Fuck_. 

Crypto laughs through a mouthful of cock, taking more of Mirage down his throat because he figures he deserves it after that embarrassing defeat. 

“ _Shhhhhhhiiiit._ ” Mirage curses through clenched teeth, gripping the bed sheets below him as he hits the back of Crypto’s throat, and oh, god his mouth does much better things than act like a little bitch out on the field, “Fucking _hell_ , Crypto.” 

For a moment —a short moment— Crypto’s attention is stolen from him by the use of his name. Well. His nickname. It’s jarring to hear, and he wonders why, because everyone calls him Crypto. Why does the intimacy make it different? He has to ponder that later, because right now, Mirage’s cock is leaking all over his tongue and he’s rather enjoying the taste.

How long does he keep this up for? Hopefully Mirage will tell him. There’s only so much his tongue can do and he’s not sure of the official schedule. 

Crypto is shy. And extremely eager to please. When he feels the momentum slip for a second, he’s already searching for new ways to make Mirage moan some more. He slips the cock from his lips and attaches them to Mirage’s balls, below, he grinds his own crotch into the mattress under, desperate for some friction. He’s hoping Mirage is too busy hurtling towards an orgasm to notice his neediness, but _no_ , of course not.

The younger man above laughs dryly, stifling his sordid moans for a greater purpose. “You doing okay down there, old man?” 

Crypto nods curtly, looking upwards, a sloppy string of saliva following his mouth from Mirage’s balls. He pretends not to notice. “Just fine thanks,” he says, but his lying is just as sloppy as his blowjob.

In what is almost a fleeting tender moment, Mirage takes a gentle hold of Crypto’s jaw, pinching his soft cheeks and enjoying the way the older man just… let’s him. “You’re pretty.” Mirage says. He’d like Crypto to believe that sentiment merely slipped out, in the heat of the moment — but the truth is he’s been sitting on that for a while. 

Before the moment lingers too long, Mirage pulls Crypto atop him, chests together, legs entangled, and kisses him. Hard. And Crypto collapses helplessly within the strong arms that wrap around him so tightly. 

“The shirt,” Mirage mumbles against Crypto’s mouth, slipping his hands under the tight t-shirt that conceals a lithe chest and stomach, “Shirt needs’t come off.” 

Rather sheepishly, Crypto tugs the shirt off over his head, tossing it to a forgotten corner of the room.

Mirage isn’t sure what he expects to find underneath Crypto’s shirt. Some scars? More plating? A huge tattoo of a love heart and that has ‘mom’ scrawled across it? He hardly believes it when he takes in the body before him and sees that it’s pristine. Not a single scrape, nor a regrettable tattoo. He has no doubt in his mind now that Crypto is every bit of a genius as he claims to be, because with scrawny arms like this there’s no way he won his Apex preliminaries with pure brawn. He smooths his calloused fingers down Crypto’s spine, round to his waist and back up. They kiss some more and Mirage realises they’ve slipped into the sort of tender moment he was hoping to avoid. Stupid, soft Crypto. 

“You’re being gentle with me.” Crypto mutters, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He presses their foreheads together and avoids eye contact, nothing new. 

“Feel like you just need someone to be nice to you right now, old man,” Mirage responds, his voice barely a gentle whisper in the other man’s ear. 

“Didn’t I say I like how things are between us?” 

“Come on, Cryppy, let someone be nice to you for a little bit. I _promise_ I’ll go back to insulting you when we’re done.” He presses three hard kisses into Crypto’s forehead, squeezes his ass too for good measure. 

Crypto groans but relents nonetheless, leaving Mirage to pepper short kisses all over his face. Somehow his seemingly nasty session with the idiot bartender has turned slow and soft — not that he was complaining. He wasn’t ready to admit it out loud but, yeah, maybe he did need someone to be nice to him right now. 

Feeling a sudden desire to derail their sedated make out session, Crypto sits up and takes in the view of the man below him. Annoyingly, he’s just as beautiful as he claims to be; the array of scrapes and bruises that litter his tanned skin only adding to his rough boy charm. Mesmerised, _maybe just a little_ , Crypto runs his hands over every bit of skin he can reach, secretly enjoying the half-lidded gaze Mirage has trained on him, paired with a smug little smile.

“You gonna let me fuck you now?” 

“That’s not very gentle of you.” Crypto simpers, trying out his own playful grin. It’s probably not as good. 

“Oh no. I’ll be gentle. Real gentle. I put the gentle in gentlemen.”

Before Crypto can think of something funny to say, he’s on his back and Mirage is above him, looking smug, obviously pleased with how he shifted their positions with such ease and grace. Their mouths crash together in a noisy melee of teeth and tongue; Mirage tastes like sugar coated insecurity. Addictive and sobering all at once; it’s the kind of taste you chase your whole life, like an ice-cream on a nondescript beach you visited as a child. And Crypto refuses to lose this flavour to the tests of time. He kisses harder, pulling Mirage closer — if it was even possible. 

For a second, maybe two, Mirage pulls away, reaching for something Crypto can’t see, and he whines, he even ruts himself against the muscular body atop him, feeling petulant at the loss of lip to lip contact. They return swiftly, thankfully, shaped like a devilish grin. 

Time seems to turn glacial as Mirage spends a moment slicking his cock and fingers with a generous helping of cherry scented lube. Of course. And, because he’s a gentleman, he flashes his best _I’m-gonna-go-in-now-is-that-alright-with-you?_ expression at Crypto and hope the message comes across. 

“Please.” Crypto breathes, staring horny daggers straight through Mirage’s skull. His glares are premature, because as soon as permission is given, Mirage pushes his index finger into him with ease — so much ease that he quickly adds another finger and that draws the most delicious moan out of the shy little hacker’s throat.

Mirage has never felt so privileged; to see Crypto coming undone in his very hands is nothing short of an honour. He fingers him slowly at first, eyeing each and every little twitch in his expression, mesmerised by the little details in his face and the way he looks like a completely different person in this setting. 

Delicately, he slides his fingers in and out of Crypto, fucking him slow enough that he knows it’s driving him crazy; when he adds a third finger into the mix, and the older male digs his heels harshly into the mattress, he figures it’s time to up the tempo a little and curls his fingers _just right_ before fingering him with messy haste. And, really, the haste is needed, because his own dick is suddenly feeling horribly put out; jesus christ, the show must go on. 

When Crypto’s loud, wanton moans turn into shaky, breathless gasps Mirage halts to an immediate stop, pulling his fingers out of the man’s ass and swiftly replacing them with his neglected erection; tears prickle in his eyes at the sudden wave of relief that drenches him as Crypto’s tight asshole clenches around him _so_ perfectly. 

Mirage’s plan to treat Crypto to a slow and passionate session is quickly shot to shit. He can only hope this isn’t to be the last time they find themselves in this position. As the orgasms pool in their stomachs both men bid farewell to the possibility of riding this session out any longer than they have to and soon they’re nothing but sweaty blurs, completely out of rhythm but hurtling towards the finish line together. 

“I— I think I’m gonna—“ Crypto says and Mirage brings their mouths together to shut him up.

“Crypto. Fuck. Me too. Me too.” Mirage breathes into their tangle of tongues and teeth. He fucks Crypto hard and fast. Hard and fast. Climbing to sweet relief but wanting the old man to get there before him. He’s a gentleman after all. 

And when Mirage pounds on that sweet bundle of nerves deep in Crypto’s ass just a few times too many, that’s when the orgasm catches them off-guard and they’re both shrieking their praises through clenched teeth, gripping each other while their balls empty.

“ _Jesus_. Fuck.” Mirage sighs, holding himself up over Crypto’s body, cleverly avoiding the sheet of cum that spilled over the hacker man’s stomach. “Well, that was the last thing I expected to do tonight.” 

Unsurprisingly, Crypto doesn’t seem like the post-coital, chatty type. He continues breathing out the final quivers of his orgasm, avoiding eye contact like usual. There was something so disingenuous about him coming into Mirage’s bed with his fake name and his fake life. But it had to be that way. 

“Okay, come on,” Mirage chuckles, rolling onto his side, “It wasn’t that bad, right?” 

“Wha— no… no.” Crypto mutters, looking guilty. 

“Tell your face.” Mirage tries to laugh, but Crypto’s expression stays looking stuck and sad. He tries another approach, “Or you could tell me. Tell me what’s wrong? Was it something I did?” 

“Sorry, no. No, you were great— it’s just,” he groans and buries his head in his hands, “There's things I can’t… tell people and I—“

Crypto stops when a set of thick fingers weave through his own, gripping him ever so gently. “Hey. I can tell you don’t want to talk about it. So, don’t. You don’t have to talk about it, hell, you don’t even have to think about it.” Mirage says, with an eloquence that shocks even himself, “How’s this? In this room, we’re just two people, existing. No names, no tragic backstories.”

Mirage knows he’s victorious when a smile teases Crypto’s lips. “Is that invitation to return?” 

“Oh _hell_ yes. I’m not even nearly finished with you,” he tugs Crypto back on top of him and kisses that stupid, sexy smirk he has on his face, “I’m a gentleman, after all.”


End file.
